In 1948, young Bill Stanley and his classmates were assigned a class essay in their senior year at Norwich Free Academy to identify the individual most important to American independence. Like most of his classmates, the man who would become my father six years later, began to research George Washington, the dynamic general who led the American Continental Army through the revolution that would free the young nation from British rule. Washington, after all, has always been widely regarded as "The father of our country."

However, a weird thing happened during this contrarian student's research. He came across the accomplishments of another American military leader, Benedict Arnold, who, it so happened, had been born in Norwich in 1741. Arnold, of course, was notorious for having abandoned the revolution and joining the British side late in the war. He was — and still is — known as America's most notorious traitor. He acknowledged Arnold's defection to the British side in 1780, his foiled plot to turn over West Point to the British, the burning of New London, and the slaughter of continental troops across the river at Fort Griswold in Groton.

A closer look at Arnold's pre-treason military record, however, showed that he had successfully fought and led Continental forces with distinction and courage. He led the capture of Fort Ticonderoga in upstate New York and led the pivotal victory at Saratoga. He fought valiantly against the British in Quebec, delayed them during the Battle of Valcour Island, fought them to a stalemate in Albany, preventing continental troops from being divided, and fought effectively with a small militia in Danbury. He twice suffered leg wounds during military action. Without these Arnold-led actions, young Stanley wrote, the American Revolution would have failed. That, in his view, made Arnold — not Washington — the individual most important to American independence.

As you would expect, the completed assignment did not go over well with the teacher. The student was sent to the house master's office, where he was suspended for the balance of the week. And thus began a lifetime of work to defend and even redefine Benedict Arnold.

Some 31 years later, Bill Stanley and his wife, Peggy, traveled overseas as tourists to visit England and Ireland. While in London, they made a side trip one day to visit the tomb of America's most notorious traitor and Norwich's most infamous native, Benedict Arnold, who is buried in the basement of St. Mary's Church, Battersea, on the bank of the River Thames.

The tomb where Arnold is buried with his wife, Peggy Shippen and their daughter, Sophia Matilda Phipps, was marked at the time only with the names of the three painted on the basement's brick wall. My parents, who were guided to the crypt by the church's janitor, were saddened at the undignified and ignoble tomb. Yes, Arnold was a treacherous traitor who had abandoned the American Revolution and gone over to the British side late in the war. However, as my father and other historians have catalogued, Arnold's pre-treason leadership in the Colonial Army had been decisive to the colonies' ultimate victory and, thus, to American independence.

Dad recalled that he and Mom shed a tear that day at Arnold's tomb and decided they would commission a proper headstone for Arnold and his family. Officials at St. Mary's Church, Battersea, approved the idea and an appropriately named New Hampshire company — Rock of Ages — was commissioned to create the granite headstone. Between the design and creation work, shipping arrangements, government approval for the overseas shipment and other details, it would take nearly 25 years before the headstone would be dedicated in a Sunday morning ceremony during services at the church.

Dad had undergone major surgery only weeks before he led a delegation of friends and family from Norwich to London for the dedication. His doctors strongly advised against the trip, but ever stubborn and determined he and Mom went anyway. About an hour into the trans-Atlantic flight, he struggled back to where I was sitting and said: "This may have been a mistake. I'm not sure I can make it." It was, of course, too late then to turn back, and we landed at London's Heathrow Airport after what, for him, had been a grueling six-hour flight.

When the day of the dedication had arrived on May 22, 2004, it was a beautiful, sunny Saturday, and the good people of St. Mary's, a Christian church whose origins can be traced back to 800 AD, were warm, welcoming and most attentive. Dad struggled to the pulpit to speak passionately about Arnold and the need to at least acknowledge the good he had done before he committed treason.

Local media and The New York Times covered the event: "He was a good man, a brilliant general," Dad said of Arnold. "Yes, he was a traitor after our cause was won. But there ought to be room in our hearts to tell the truth about Benedict Arnold. ... The war is over. We won. The man has been dead for 200 years. If we can forgive the Japanese for Pearl Harbor, can't we forgive him?"

The granite headstone is 30 inches high, 2 1/2 inches thick, and weighs 160 pounds, which made overseas shipping a real challenge, but it eventually happened after going through various levels of bureaucratic approval. It includes the names of Arnold, his wife, and daughter, referring to him as "Sometime General in the Army of George Washington. The two nations whom he served in turn in the years of enmity have united in enduring friendship."

The headstone, which was on display that day in front of the church's altar, would later be installed in the basement, where the crypt is actually located.

Eighteen years later, I was in London as part of a 2 1/2 week-vacation in Scotland, Ireland and the UK. My partner, Karen Buck, friends Dan and Sandy Glenney and I, visited St. Mary's Church, Battersea, to see the headstone where it is now embedded in the basement wall. It was a brief but emotional visit, generating memories of Dad's lifetime of work to balance the world's view of Benedict Arnold, whose very name is synonymous with treason. We took a few pictures, chatted with church staff, and I recalled for them that special day in 2004 when we were so warmly greeted by members of the church.

As a contrarian Irish politician, Dad never saw a fight he didn't want to join, sometimes wrong, but never in doubt. I am proud of him and what he did, and know that he was finally at peace when he passed away six years after the dedication, having ensured "The General's" final resting place is now appropriately marked.

Bill Stanley, a former vice president at L+M Hospital, grew up in Norwich.